“Fuck that man!” Annabelle tore open her purse, scrambling to find her cell phone. It might not work here, but that was fine. She’d yell across the ocean if she had to. “I knew this was one of his goddamn dirty tricks. He can take this marriage proposal and stuff it up his crusty ass!”

Imaad approached her, anxiety filling the air between them like pooling water. “So, he didn’t even tell you?

“Of course he didn’t!” She found the phone and tossed her purse, the contents scattering across the carpet. She huffed, kicking a tampon away. Even in the midst of all this she didn’t want the dark-skinned hottie to see her secret things.

Imaad ran a hand through his hair, making the immaculate style stick up at comical angles. “This was part of the deal. The business merger was predicated on us getting married.”

Annabelle glared at him as her phone turned on. “So you knew about this the whole time?”

“Of course. My father told me last week.”

“What were you trying to do? Scare me off by being an asshole?” She scoffed, shaking her head. The phone vibrated as it turned on and then began the lengthy process of finding a signal in this strange new land.

“Yes. I was.”

His soft tone made her pause. She glanced at him, unnerved by the tenderness there. When he spoke now, he was a different man than he’d been for the past hour. Harassing her about her looks, her dress, her words, her entire existence. So that was all an act?

It didn’t even matter. She’d been duped, and she wouldn’t stand for this.

“Well, listen. I can’t marry you. Maybe you’ve come around to the idea of marrying a complete stranger, but I haven’t, and I never will. And if this is what the deal requires, both of our fathers can fuck right off.”

Imaad winced at the words. He approached as she scrolled through her phone, the piney scent of his cologne reaching her.

“Hang on. Let’s talk before you make that phone call. You’re upset.”

“No shit I’m upset!” She laughed bitterly. “My dad just tried to marry me off like I’m some prize cow.”

Imaad reached for her hand, touching her wrist. Warmth flooded her and she looked up at him as if she’d been slapped.

“Wait to call him.” Imaad’s voice was firm but gentle. His dark eyes looked friendly, not at all the hard glares from earlier. “Let’s get everything straight first.”

She scowled at him then set the phone down. “I’m pretty sure I have everything straight already. My dad agreed to marry me off to you and didn’t tell me about it.”

“And my father agreed to have me marry you. Neither of us were involved in this decision. Neither of us want to do it.”

“Yep, sounds like an accurate summary.” She snatched up her phone again. “Now excuse me, I need to call that heinous man who helped give me life.”

“Wait.” His fingers brushed her forearm, and she clenched her thighs. There was something potent in his touch. Something a little too potent. “Hear me out. We can’t let this merger be cancelled.”

“You were pretty okay with ruining this sham marriage fifteen minutes ago, what’s so different now?”

“I thought you came over here knowing the arrangement. Convincing you to renege on your decision is one thing. But if you didn’t even know…that means our fathers included the marriage in the merger contract.” He paused, his umber eyes swirling with confusion. “It can’t affect the merger,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I don’t know what life is like for you over in the States, but we need this for our company. Badly.”

Annabelle swallowed hard, impacted by the sincerity in his voice, the desperation that clawed at her, even through the fog of anger.

“We’ve been laying off workers for months. If we don’t merge, we’ll lose thousands more. My father arranged this because he values business far more than romance. Marrying his son to the daughter of the merging company’s CEO is his idea of happily ever after. My father takes this very seriously.”

She laughed. “Well, if he wants the merger so badly, he’ll have to do it without a wedding. Can we change the contract?”

Imaad shook his head, his dark brows knit together. “It’ll never happen.”

Annabelle stared at her cellphone, mind swirling with disbelief. Barely an hour in Parsabad, and she was already knee-deep in this quagmire caused exclusively by her father. She should have known better. He never promised anything that didn’t come with the strings already attached. But she’d never imagined these strings would be so tenacious.

Her phone buzzed with a new message, and then again. Apparently, it had found a signal—the missed messages were rolling in. She unlocked her phone, eagerly scrolling through what she’d missed during the flight over.

Imaad slumped down into the chair nearby while she read her texts. A couple “Safe trip!” messages from friends and a handful from Marian. The first one wishing her a smooth flight, the second hoping she’d landed without using the barf bag, the third one informing her that her mother had been taken to urgent care the night before, but everything was okay and she shouldn’t be worried.

Annabelle’s belly knotted so tightly it almost made her gasp. It would never end. Another scare, another health failure, another worry to add to the pile that already crushed both of them under its weight.

But your dad is taking care of her bills now. The thought whispered through her like a refreshing breeze on a hot day. You don’t have to worry about that anymore. He’s going to take care of it now.

Her throat tightened, the sad truth meandering through her. Her own father had leveraged her hand in marriage to acquire this business deal, knowing that his daughter’s only weakness was her mother’s health.

What a bastard. Tears pricked her eyes and she stood in front of the sliding glass door, and watched dusky hues descending over Minarak. She stared at a crowded row of apartment buildings in the distance, wondering who lived there, what they might be combatting at that moment in their household, whether any of them had faced such a betrayal from their own parent.

This is not fucking normal. She wiped away a tiny tear that had broken through the fiercely guarded wall of her eye. So, what now? Marry the jerk, even if maybe he wasn’t totally a jerk, and just continue with life as normal? Impossible. She couldn’t live with herself if she had to cow to her father’s stupid, rich whims again. Just because he had money and power, he wanted to control her life. Thought he could toss her around like a useful little rag doll.

And maybe he’s right.

Annabelle crossed her arms tightly, looking beyond the city, seeing the snowcapped mountains on the horizon without even appreciating them. She couldn’t, at a time like this. She needed all her focus for finding a way out of this. A way of lessening the betrayal, even slightly. You would do anything for Mom.

“What if we do it, but just get the marriage annulled after?” She turned to Imaad, feeling like a traitor for even suggesting it. Here she was, bending to her father’s will. Exactly as he planned. Exactly as he knew she would.

Imaad straightened, eyebrow perking up.

“We can keep up appearances. You know, just play the part.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Once it’s through, we’ll call it off.”

“The merger won’t happen until we’re married,” Imaad said.

“Right. And then we can divorce. Or annul. Whatever.”

A tense silence settled between them. Slowly, Imaad nodded. “Yes. I think this makes sense…somehow.”

Their gazes locked. She saw the same confusion in his eyes, the same distrust, the same damn shackles binding his wrists.

If you two are bound to do this…at least it wasn’t his choice either.

Somehow, that made it better. They could stand in solidarity. Screwed by their parents. Forced to enter into a modern-day arranged marriage. Their stories would become fodder for a Lifetime movie down the road. Once the divorce was finalized, of course.

“Great.” Annabelle rested her hands on her hips, looking Imaad up and down. So maybe he was a decent man after all. And fuck, he was sexier than hell. The type of broad shoulders and dark, brooding eyes that made her knees wobble.

“Yes.” Imaad cleared his throat, heading for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be here at nine to take you to the office.”

“Thanks.” Her words withered in his wake once the door shut behind him, and the silence in her room was a different type of tense now. She almost wished he were back. Something about him felt calming, perhaps because they were partners facing this together.

She shook her head, heading for the bathroom. Time to wash off the day. Wash off the news. And wash off that lingering desire to see what Imaad looked like under that suit.